


I Didn't Completely Hate It

by Lyledebeast



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Banter, Bickering, Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, First Time, Fraternization, Hand Jobs, Introspection, M/M, Oral Sex, Prostitution mentioned, Some angst, loss of virginity mentioned, quid pro quo but not really, rape of a minor mentioned, reluctant Resistance Hux
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-01-15 14:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18501298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyledebeast/pseuds/Lyledebeast
Summary: Leia asks Poe to get some sensitive information from Hux.  Poe gives Hux what he thinks he wants and gets some things he didn't know he wanted in exchange.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking of writing something like this for a while. First because I read a bunch of really sweet Kylux loss of virginity fics but was dismayed when I couldn't find any Gingerpilot ones! This isn't exactly a loss of virginity fic, but it's pretty close.
> 
> The other inspiration was reading a whole bunch of posts on Tumblr making fun Hux for being a virgin. Really? With all the horrors going on at Brendol Hux's academy and in the First Order itself, I can think of a lot worse things he could be.

“Um, okay.  Just . . . let me make sure I’m understanding, General.  You’re asking me to seduce General Hugs to get the codes to disable the Finalizer without destroying it, like you and I both know he wants to do.  Have I got that right?”

Leia Organa narrowed her eyes at him, then sighed.  “I didn’t say seduce him, Commander.  I believe I said to ‘convince him.’  But if you think seducing him would be more effective then by all means . . . “

“What makes you think I can convince him? Why not Finn or Rose?” Like almost everyone, Finn and Rose were suspicious of Hux’s defection and disgusted that he was permitted some degree of freedom.  But no one could deny that his information about the Order’s plans had been vital to their recent successes, not anymore. And surely he was no less likely to tell them as him, however likely that was.

“Well, considering that Finn can barely be in the same room with and Rose . . . I’m not sure Rose has the patience for this.”

“And I do? You say I’m hotheaded.”

Her lips curved into a tiny smile.  “And I stand by that.  But you aren’t afraid of him and you don’t want to kill him.  That makes you the best man for the job.”

Poe scoffed and folded his arms.  “Those attacks on his base and his ships sure seem to point to me wanting to kill him,” he muttered.

When he caught her eye again, she only looked smugger.  “Those were attacks on his base and his ships, not on him.  Or am I to believe this was all a personal vendetta against a man you’d never met.”

Poe frowned.  She was right, he knew.  He just didn’t want to admit it.

“You talk to him,” she went on, encouraging. “You’re the only officer who does.”

“Besides you.” He realized how petulant it sounded only after it was out, his cheeks warming.  Why was he so hesitant to just ask the man?

Her smile vanished.  “It will no good for me to ask; you know that.  He would call it a mother’s sentiment.”

Poe looked away, desperately wanting to be somewhere else.  He never knew how to feel or what to say when General Organa talked about her son.  Of course she wanted him safe, if she could have it.  As a son who still missed his mother, he could sympathize.  As an officer . . . he just didn’t see how that would work.  Even if they could capture Kylo Ren alive, what would they do with him then?

“He likes that you talk to him.  I’ve noticed.”

Poe could only stare at her.  He wasn’t sure if the confusion he felt was better than the discomfort it replaced.

“I’m . . . not sure how you figure that, General.  It hasn’t exactly been civil conversation.”

She smiled again, and this time he was relieved to see it.  “Maybe not.  But his conversation skills would be a bit rusty.  He’ll be used to giving orders, mostly.  And then . . . my son. I doubt his conversations with you have been the least civil he’s had.”

Poe shrugged.  She wouldn’t be talked out of it, it seemed.  “I’ll see what I can do.”

* * *

The walk back to his quarters did nothing to clear Poe’s mind.  He wasn’t quite sure what he had agreed to.  As he changed out of his work clothes, he replayed the conversations he’d had with Hux.  They had been brief, mostly posturing on both sides.  But he knew what General Organa meant.  In the few weeks since his defection, the bite had gone out of Hux’s barbs.  He didn’t even grimace at being called “Hugs” anymore.  Poe found that he missed that, a little.

He had thought maybe it was just Hux’s way of expressing the humility that he would never put into words.  He wasn’t a big shot anymore.  Sure, he had his part to play, but he had no authority.  Given that authority had made up the bulk of his personality, of course it had taken him a while to adjust.

He wondered what Finn would think of his new mission.  Hux’s defection was a sore point with him, even more than the others.  Poe supposed it was because he had known him for so long, but he still didn’t trust him in spite of how helpful he had been.

“I don’t know what it is, I just know he’s up to something,” he’d insisted. 

Poe’s instincts told him there was nothing to fear; Finn was just being paranoid.  Hux did unnerve him a bit, though.  He didn’t know how to feel about him.  They had been trying to destroy each other for years; he should enjoy his humiliation.  But a part of him, one he would never acknowledge to Finn, felt sorry for him.  Hux didn’t seem scared exactly, just lost.  Like he was never sure what to say or do.  When General Organa asked him a question during meetings, there was always silence before his answer.  Like he wasn’t sure she was actually speaking to him.

Now that he thought about it, those were the times Poe was most likely to throw a quip at him.  It drew his answer out, turning one sentence into three or four.  He realized that, for all his scowling, Hux never hesitated to answer his questions.

“Kriff,” he said aloud.  “I’m his best friend.”

He gave a humorless snort of laughter and shook his head before he got up. Poor Hugs.

Heading to the officers’ refresher, he determined to put the man from his mind.  Any plans he made now could only be improved  with a good night’s sleep.

But the moment he opened the door he was greeted by the sight of poor Hugs watching him in the nearest mirror, eyes wide with alarm.

Poe swore inwardly.  “Hugs,” he said with a nod.

Hux’s lips curved down into his characteristic scowl. “Dameron.”

It had been their most polite encounter to date.  Usually, they only acknowledged each other during strategy meetings when it was hard not to.

“I . . . didn’t expect anyone to be in here so late,” Poe offered in explanation.  He wasn’t going to leave, and now that Hux had gotten over the shock of seeing him, it seemed he wasn’t either.

“Precisely,” Hux replied testily.  He grabbed his toothbrush and went at his teeth with a violence that made Poe wince.  He squeezed out some toothpaste onto his own brush.  Usually, he preferred to shower first and then brush his teeth, but now that he’d caught Hux alone, he didn’t want him to leave without saying . . . something.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Hux unrolled a strip of floss and stretched it between his thumbs and index fingers.  Poe hoped he would take more care with it than with his brushing or there would be blood all over the sink.  And Hux didn’t look like he had any he could spare.

He wore only standard underwear: grey boxers and a grey undershirt that left his long arms bare.  Poe never seen whiter skin, and he knew several redheads.  All of them had faces and arms absolutely covered in freckles, but on Hux he couldn’t see a single one, not even on the back of his neck when he had bent down to spit.  He didn’t realize he’d been staring until Hux turned to face him, dropping the hand holding his floss to the side.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked snidely.

His mouth still full of toothpaste, Poe tried to come up a witty comeback.  By the time he spat it out, all he had was “I thought gingers were supposed to have freckles.”

Hux’s brows drew together and his frown deepened.  Whatever he’d been expecting Poe to say, it clearly hadn’t been that.

Poe half expected him to leave as soon as he’d thrown his floss out, but he moved back to the sink instead.

“Where do you think freckles come from, Dameron?”

Under any other circumstances, Poe was certain he would know, but asked on the spot like this . . . “Enlighten me, Hugs.”

“Sun exposure.  Not a lot of sun on a star destroyer, is there?”

“I guess not,” Poe conceded.

“So, this is the result.” Hux squared his shoulders, his jaw set in challenge.  “Pasty and skinny, just as you guessed.”

Poe was on his way to asking what lack of sunlight had to do with Hux being skinny when the words hit home.  He had said that, hadn’t he?

He gave a bark of laugher and watched as Hux’s cheeks went pink. “I can’t believe you remember that, Hugs.  Hugs! That’s the first time I called you that!”

Hux’s blush deepened and he looked away; he didn’t seen to remember that exchange as fondly as Poe did.

As he gathered his toiletries, Poe racked his brain for a way to keep him there.  Why would he remember something so trivial?

“I . . . I said it to catch you off guard, you know?” he said.  “I didn’t know that . . .”

Hux glared at him hard, and Poe couldn’t stop his eyes from raking down his body.  He really was strikingly thin.

“Didn’t know what?” he snapped.

“I mean, I hadn’t seen you before.  I mean I’d seen your face, but just in holos.  I hadn’t seen” . . . Somehow he just couldn’t get “your body” out, not with the way Hux’s eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared already.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

They stared at each other, Hux’s face contorting, his mouth gaping as though no words could express his outrage.  Poe wondered how much of it was the accusation that he had feelings.

“If you think,” he hissed, “that I’d let some . . . pilot . . . rob me of my composure by talking about my . . . my . . .”

He couldn’t say it either, Poe noted with interest.

Hux turned back to face the mirror, not looking at himself or Poe.

“ _I_ didn’t get where I am because of my looks,” he said haughtily.

Poe smiled, intrigued by the implication.  “Oh, is that how you think we do things?”

He took a step closer to Hux, grinning when he saw his eyes widen. “Is that why we were losing before you defected? Because our pilots are hot rather than smart?”

He reached down for the hem of his undershirt and pulled it over his head.  Hux’s eyes darkened as he took him in, and his face burned bright red.

“But I was smart enough to destroy your dreadnought, wasn’t I.”

Hux gave no response; Poe wondered if he had even heard him.  He was staring at his chest so intently that he was probably also unaware that he was biting his lower lip.  He did have nice lips, Poe had to admit.

“My eyes are up here, Hugs,” he pointed out, amused. 

Hux met his gaze for only a second before he was turning again.  He turned on the faucet suddenly and bent down, splashing his face with water as though trying to wash what he had just seen out his eyes.

He wants me, Poe thought triumphantly. 

“You can see the benefit, can’t you?”

Hux refused to look at him, but Poe noticed that he seemed to be having a lot of trouble picking up a towel to dry his face.  His splashing had been clumsy, too.  There was water all over his neck, and some had even darkened the center of his grey undershirt.  In the mirror, Poe could see the tiny points of his nipples hard against the fabric.  Had the cold water done that, or had he?

“I have . . . no idea what you’re talking about,” Hux said, still refusing to look at him.  Poe wondered if he knew how raspy his voice sounded.

When he turned around, would there be a tent in his boxers?

Poe took two steps towards the shower before his curiosity got the better of him. “Hux?”

Hux didn’t turn around; instead, he met Poe’s eyes in the mirror.  Poe reached down drop his boxers and stood again, keeping his gaze fixed on Hux. 

He was frozen, eyes wide and glued to Poe, stricken with lust and . . . was it fear? Whatever it was, Poe felt a twinge of shame in response.  Maybe he was pushing this too far.

He said no more, but turned and stepped into the shower.  Before he turned on the spray, he heard the rapid footfalls of Hux fleeing.

* * *

Poe didn’t speak to Hux again for a few days.  He tried, but Hux always found a way to evade him, somehow without even looking at him. Even in meetings.  When he’d asked Hux a direct question at the most recent one, he hadn’t even acknowledged him.  Instead, he delivered his answer to General Organa directly, his face growing redder with each word.  Afterwards, the look of disappointment she shot Poe was more powerful than any words could have been.

Get it together, Dameron, he thought as he left.

After the meeting, Poe had stayed busy until dinner time, but all the while he thought of how best to approach Hux the next time he saw him.  His desire had been unmistakable, but it was equally easy to see that him realizing how he felt, and knowing that Poe knew it too, had changed things between them.  That it was obvious didn’t mean he was going to acknowledge it, though.  Poe was going to have to approach him with a lot of stealth.  And charm.

When he entered the cantina, he caught sight of Hux right away.  Over weeks of observation, Poe had noticed that he always sat in the same place, out in the open where he could be seen by everyone.  At first, he had seen it as defiance, but now he wondered if it wasn’t about safety.  Since General Organa had forbidden anyone from attacking or intimidating him, he wanted to be where any such behavior would be as visible, and punishable, as it could be.

It was clever on Hux’s part.  The trouble was, any attempt at fraternization with him would be visible too, and perhaps just as unforgivable by people other than the general.

Poe decided not to think about that.  His pilots (and Finn) might not understand at first, but once it was all done, and the loss of life minimized as much as possible, surely then they would see that it had all been for the best.

Hux didn’t look up, even when Poe was standing next to him, tray in hand.  He certainly wasn’t about to make this easy.

“Hey, um, Hux?”

He finally looked up, putting his knife and fork down on his plate. His food looked barely touched, though he had been sitting there before Poe got this plate.

“Dameron,” he said coolly.  Poe fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“May I sit down?”

Hux watched him, his lips pressed into a thin line.  Poe wondered if he was weighing the consequences of each option or just wanting to make him squirm.  He had opened his mouth to speak again when Hux beat him to it.

“If you like.”

As soon as the words were out, Hux started eating.  It’s a good thing I came, Poe thought caustically.  He might starve otherwise.  He started on his own dinner, a stew that was heavy on beans, but light on spices.  As much as the prospects for the Resistance had improved, the food had yet to do so.

“Was there something you wanted?” Hux asked, putting his fork down in the center of his empty plate.

Poe brought his napkin up to wipe at the corners of his mouth.  This time, he was prepared.

“I wanted to apologize for what happened in the ‘fresher.”

Hux’s eyes narrowed with suspicion as he watched him.  “Why?”

That, Poe hadn’t expected.  He’d thought Hux would be icy at first, that he’d have to coax a conversation out of him.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.  I just . . . wanted to talk to you.”

He thought he saw Hux’s expression soften just a fraction, and when he spoke he sounded confused.  “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Poe sat back, willing himself to relax.  It was just Hugs, after all.

“I wanted to thank you, for all the help you’ve given us.  With your information, we’re so close to winning and it just . . . doesn’t seem right to not be grateful.”

If Hux had been confused before, he looked absolutely bewildered now. “I . . . General Organa did not have me killed the moment I turned myself in; that was my thanks.  Most of the people here want to kill me, but have not.  There is . . . no need for you to thank me.  We both benefit from this.”

“But you’re not happy.”

Hux’s brow furrowed.  “I’m not . . . what?”

“You’re always alone, every time I see you when we’re not in a meeting.  Haven’t you thought at all about what you’ll do after the war is over?”

“I think you make a bold assumption that it will be over soon,” Hux answered, but he couldn’t quite meet Poe’s eyes.  He hadn’t thought about it, Poe realized with a rush of pity.  With a smile, He fought it down.

“I want to help you out, like you’ve helped us. I want to . . . get to know you better.”

He watched as Hux looked first to one side, then the other, as though he was afraid of someone listening in.  Poe fought the urge to follow his gaze, looking only at Hux as he waited for him to answer.

When no answer came, he leaned in closer.  “And I think you want to know me better too.”

The blood rushed to Hux’s face again, and Poe knew that he had understood.  It was a relief and yet, he could feel his heartbeat quickened.  The things Hux could say to him.  The things he would probably say to him were he in Hux’s position.

Are you a commander or an escort?

Do you offer this service to everyone who helps the Resistance or am I special?

But Hux said neither of these things.  “I . . . “ he began with some trouble.  “I don’t . . . know what you mean.”

“I think you do,” Poe replied, smiling as he sat back again.  “The question is, are you going to let me?”

His eyes widened.  “Let you what?”

Poe took a deep breath, this was what he had been working towards.  “Let me come to your room tonight.”

Hux’s face went even redder.  Poe wondered if any onlookers would know what he had proposed just from looking at Hux’s face.  That was a risk he hadn’t considered.

“If you’d rather not, it’s fine,” he said, getting a bit nervous.  “If you’ve got plans tonight, tomorrow could work.”

He had hoped to sound casual, but at his last words he could see the confusion and embarrassment vanish from Hux’s face.

“Ah, I see.  This  . . . proposal is time sensitive, is it?”

Poe felt his stomach flip.  Hux knows, he realized.  He knows I want to ask him something before our attack on the Order’s fleet, and I’ve just made a fool of myself for nothing.

He tried to save face.  “Well, just give it some thought.  I’m not hard to find.”

As he got to his feet and reached for his tray, intending to make the best retreat he could, Hux reached out.  He held the tray in place with two fingers on the edge.

“Wait, I . . . tonight will be fine.”

Poe looked down at him, disbelieving.  Hux met his eyes, but his blush was back in place, if a little fainter than it had been.

“It will be late,” Poe said in a voice low enough that only Hux could hear him.  “It won’t do either of us any good if I get caught.”

Hux gave a terse nod and released the tray.  He seemed so embarrassed by the very thought of sex that Poe was amazed he’d agreed to it.

He had thought it very likely that Hux was a virgin; sex required a level of trust he wasn’t sure he’d ever been capable of.  Not in the First Order, where everyone he wasn’t trying to kill was probably trying to kill him. His shyness only seemed to confirm it.

As he walked away, he wondered if Hux really knew what he had signed on for.

He wondered if he knew himself.

* * *

Poe had hoped his nerves would abate by the time he was on his way to Hux’s room, but they had not.  He was always a little nervous the first time he had sex with anyone new, and he’d never done it under such circumstances before.  Hux had better be willing to cooperate, or he didn’t know what he’d do.

He had considered bringing wine, but decided that would look too suspicious.  After all, if Hux offered him wine, would he drink it? As hard as it was even to imagine it, he would have to earn Hux’s trust. And maybe trust Hux a little too.

He still hadn’t told Finn what he was going to do.  A part of him knew that his friend would try to talk him out of it.  “Why would you do this for Kylo Ren?” he’d say.  “He’s not worth it.” And he would be right, but Poe wasn’t doing it for him.

It would be worth it to see Leia Organa happy again.

Hux’s bedroom was off the main officers’ hall.  Poe suspected that it had been repurposed as a bedroom too keep Hux as far away from the Resistance officers as possible, but he had never complained.  Trying to avoid anyone hearing, Poe rapped quietly on the door.  Hux must have been right by the door, for it slowly swung open almost immediately.

“Hurry” Hux hissed even as Poe rushed past him.  Poe took in the room.  It was impeccably neat and sparse: ascetic.  It was a little unsettling, as though Hux was only to be staying there for one night rather than the foreseeable future.

“You tidied up!” Poe exclaimed, grinning when Hux’s cheeks turned pink.  He had changed into charcoal grey sweater and black trousers, slightly nicer than those of a similar shade that he’d had on at dinner.   Poe supposed he had sought out the clothes that best replicated his First Order uniform, but he thought these suited him much better.  They actually fit his body. Though they did look a little familiar.

Poe’s eyes narrowed as he remembered why.  They had belonged to one of his pilots.  Tall and lean, Mark had been a similar size to Hux, but it was the only thing they had in common.  Mark had been so full of laughter and so friendly to new recruits. 

He had been killed while following Poe’s orders in the attack on the Fulminator, and now General Hugs was wearing his clothes.

“Are you going to ask me to sit down?” Poe asked, more harshly than he intended.

Hux flinched, startled.  “I . . . yes, of course.”

He stretched out his hand, indicating the chair by the neatly made bed.  “I . . . don’t know what has happened to my manners.”

“It’s okay,” Poe replied, forcing a smile.  “I understand that you don’t entertain often.”

Hux sat down on his bed, but he didn’t look at Poe.  “Not like this,” he murmured.

Poe felt his anger dissipate a little.  How could he have ever imagined that he and Hux would wind up in such a situation?  It must strike Hux as bizarre too.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” he said gently, reaching for Hux’s knee. “I’m not Rose, you know.  I won’t bite.”

As soon as his hand closed on it, Hux jumped up, glaring at him.

“What’s the matter?” Poe cried.  Had Hux misunderstood him after all?

He shrugged.  “I’m . . . unsure.  I’m not sure what you want, Dameron.”

Poe swore inwardly.  It was a dangerous topic of conversation.  He wanted to say it was about what Hux wanted, but Hux would know that was a lie.  He wasn’t stupid.

“I think, given what I’m here for, I’d rather you call me Poe.”

Hux narrowed his eyes as though he didn’t think much of that.

“Look, what can I do to make you more comfortable?” Poe asked, hearing an edge of exasperation in his voice as he stood up.

Hux nibbled his lip again as his eyes moved down Poe’s torso.  “Get undressed.”

Poe’s balked for only a moment, feeling stupid for not expecting that.  He pulled his shirt and overshirt over his head in one motion and sat down again to take off his boots.  Hux watched him hungrily; his cheeks were still pink, but at least he was looking at him now.  Finally, things were on the right track.

“You can put your clothes on the chair,” Hux suggested as he stepped out of his pants.  “You won’t be needing it anymore.”

Still in his underwear, Poe stepped toward him.  Hux’s confidence seemed to falter as he stared at him, as though he’d forgotten for a moment that he wasn’t the only one in charge here.  Poe expected him to ask him to take his boxers off too, and he meant to refuse until Hux had at least started to undress himself.  They were equals now, and Hux would have to recognize it.

“It’s okay,” he cooed, reaching to stroke his cheek before he leaned in.

“What are you doing?” Hux gasped, turning his face to the side so that Poe’s lips brushed against this cheek.

His lips were parted in shock, and Poe could feel his own cheeks warm.

“What?” he snapped.  “I’m not allowed to kiss you either?”

Hux looked away, timid.  “Is that . . . necessary?”

Poe’s cheeks were burning now, confusion and indignation warring in his mind.  It was almost enough to make him leave and tell General Organa that he’d failed.

“I . . . yes, it’s necessary, Hugs.  I’m not a prostitute!”

Hux’s eyes widened and the color drained from his face.  “I . . . I didn’t say you were.  That’s not what I meant.”

Poe sighed, raising a hand to rub over his face.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay. It’s just . . . I would be more comfortable if you were undressed too.”

“You can turn the lights off first, if that makes it easier for you,” he added when Hux opened his mouth to protest.

Hux got up and took a tentative step towards the switch on the wall before he looked at Poe again.  “Do you trust me in the dark? What makes you think I don’t have a weapon hidden in here?”

Poe considered that for a moment, but it only made him smile.

“Look, Hugs, if you were going to kill me, you’d have to hide my body, right? Do you think you could drag it out of here?”

To his relief, Hux gave a tiny smile at that.  “No, I suppose not.”

A moment later, they were in total darkness.  Poe found his way to the bed and sat down on it, listening to Hux make his way across he room and swear when he walked into the chair.  He heard the sound of fabric rustling as Hux took off his clothes and the metallic scrape of his zipper being undone.  Satisfied that Hux was playing his part, he stood and pulled down his boxers, letting them fall to the floor.  He felt the bed creak as Hux sat next to him and moved back to give him room to lie down.

It wasn’t until he reached out to touch Hux that he realized he was lying in his side with his back to him.  He flinched again when Poe’s fingers stroked lightly between his bare shoulder blades.

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” Poe whispered.  After all, there had to be other ways to gain Hux’s trust.  He was a little surprised that hadn’t occurred to him before.

Hux heaved a shivery sigh when Poe pressed the flat of his palm against him.  “What . . . why would you think I didn’t want to?”

Poe rolled his eyes leaned forward to kiss him again, this time just beneath his ear.  Hux drew another shaky breath and moved a fraction of an inch back.  Not much progress, but Poe would take it.

“See? I told you I wouldn’t bite.”

“That remains to be seen,” Hux snapped back, unable to hide the slight rasp in his voice.  His neck was one of his sweet spots, Poe decided.

He grew bolder, kissing his way down the side and pausing just above his shoulder to lightly suck a bit of skin against his teeth.  Hux shuddered and, finally, rolled onto his back.  Poe grinned in the darkness.  Maybe this was going to be easier than he thought. Pushing himself up onto one elbow, he splayed out one hand on his chest.  As his fingers explored the almost hairless terrain, it felt even narrower than it had looked in the ‘fresher.  He wondered if Hux had ever been physically fit.  Hadn’t he been trained as a soldier at all?

A hiss from Hux interrupted his thought when one finger brushed against a peaked nipple.  Poe stilled his hand, unsure whether it was a pleased sound or not.  Tentatively, he circled the tiny nub with his index finger, feeling it stiffen further.  Interesting.

“Oh,” Hux murmured when Poe prodded it gently with the pad of his finger, as though surprised by his own sensitivity.  He tensed and swore when Poe lowered his head, replacing his finger with the tip of his tongue.

“How’s that, Hugs?”

“I . . .” he stammered.  “I . . . don’t know why I’m permitting this.”

“Because,” Poe began before pressing a kiss to his chest . . . “it,” another kiss . . . “feels good.” When his lips reached the other nipple, he lapped at it once before sucking it into his mouth.  Hux arched his back with a gasp so loud Poe was afraid he was about to come already.

He raised his head and lay his hand on Hux’s chest again, feeling it rise and fall rapidly.

“M’sorry,” he muttered, rubbing what he hoped were soothing circles on the warm skin. “You’re alright.  I suppose I was going a little fast.”

He felt the pillow move against his arm as Hux nodded.  “Yes.”

He didn’t speak again, and for a moment of awkward silence, Poe wondered again whether it wasn’t too late to switch tactics.

“But,” Hux began, so softly Poe could barely hear him.  “It did.”

Poe narrowed his eyes.  He would have thought the man who made the speeches Finn told him about could put a complete sentence together.  “Did what?”

Hux looked away, his voice somehow even fainter.  “It felt good.”

A part of Poe wanted to say that he’d guessed as much from his reaction, but his heart wasn’t in it.  Besides, embarrassing Hux wouldn’t help his objective.

He leaned down, cupping Hux’s cheek in his hand and turning his head back in his direction.  “That’s good,” he said simply, pressing a light kiss to his lips.  When Hux didn’t flinch or try to move away this time, he kissed him again with more pressure.   Perhaps he had just gone too fast.  If no one had touched him for years, he would probably react the same way.  Though in all the years since he’d lost his virginity at seventeen, he was sure it had never been that long.

Gradually, Hux began to relax underneath him, his lips parting ever so slightly against Poe’s.  Poe slid his hand down his chest again, this time avoiding his nipples. If Hux didn’t touch them, what other parts of himself did he not touch? What if he had never even jerked off before? If that were the case, Poe didn’t know how he was going to stop him from coming as soon as he put his hand on him.

It wasn’t until his hand reached Hux’s soft belly and felt it tense that it occurred to him.  Maybe Hux was worried about the same thing.

“You still alright, Hux?” he asked, rubbing his thumb along the edge of his hip.

“Ye . . . yes,” he answered in his shakiest voice yet.  In the silence that followed, Poe could hear his breath coming in pants.

“Do you want me to touch your cock?” In any other situation, it would have been the stupidest question he could think of.  What was he there for if not that? But with Hux so nervous already, he thought he had better ask.

At first, Hux’s breathing only grew harsher.  “Please,” he whined, finally.

To his surprise, Poe felt the beginnings of desire coiling low in his belly.  He’d always loved making his lovers plead, and apparently there really was no exception+ to that.  For the first time, he wondered what Hux looked like below the neck.  As fair-skinned as he was, he was sure he was flushed pink, but what shade? How far down did it go?  Was the hair Poe felt now against his fingertips as red as that on Hux’s head? Was the head of his cock pinker than his lips? That he wanted answers to these questions was disturbing.  This was to be a one-time thing.

He took a wisp of hair between his thumb and forefinger and tugged gently.  Hux yelped with surprise but his stiff cock jumped, finally making contact with Poe’s hand.  Before Hux could recover, he wrapped his hand around the shaft.  His palm spanned it from root to crown, and it was so narrow that even with his thumb on his middle fingernail, he held it only in a loose grip.

So, that’s why he made Starkiller base so kriffing big, Poe thought.

The thought vanished as he dragged the pad of his thumb over the head and Hux moaned for the first time.  It was a low, shy noise, and the next one came bitten off as Poe stroked just underneath his slit.  For all their animosity, he trusted Poe with the most sensitive part of him.  He stroked him once from base to tip, tugging down his foreskin, and Hux shuddered with a muffled cry.

He trusted Poe in a way he’d never trusted anyone else, and here he was, making fun of his size.

With his hand still on Hux’s cock, he stretched out on his side again.  “C’mere” he murmured.

It took a moment for Hux to understand what he meant, but then rolled onto his side, facing him.  When Poe kissed him this time, his lips parted with no hesitation and he moaned again when he felt Poe’s tongue against his.  He made a little noise of complaint when Poe released his cock and brought his hand up to cup his jaw, but Poe broke the kiss to shush him.

“It’s okay.  I’m not going anywhere, but we’re not in any hurry, are we?”

Hux’s only answer was to bring their lips together again.  He cautiously moved his hand to Poe’s shoulder, his touch so light that Poe half expected him to snatch it away again.  He kept it in place, though, his fingers tightening when Poe nipped at his lower lip and then flicked his tongue out again to sooth it.  When Hux’s hand moved to cup the side of his neck, it took a moment for Poe to realize the moan he heard had come from him.  His cheeks flushed; had he forgotten who he was kissing?

Now that Hux was relaxing, maybe he could be a bit bolder.  His hand had fallen to Hux’s hip as they kissed and he slid it around behind his back, pressing his palm against him as it slid down towards his ass.  They both gasped when he cupped one of his cheeks.  Poe had known Hux’s ass couldn’t be completely flat, but there was more than he expected.  Firm and small, it was enough to fill his palm nicely, and he couldn’t resist giving it a little squeeze.

“Oh!”

Hux’s hips bumped against his as they jerked forward and Poe felt his erection against his belly, still as hard as ever.

“Like that, do you?” Poe teased.  He trailed his fingers along the curve of Hux’s ass before slipping them into his cleft and squeezing again.  Hux ground his erection against him again, and this time it smeared precome on his hip.

“I’m . . . sorry” he panted.  “I didn’t . . . I . . .Poe, please!”

Poe felt his own cock twitch and begin to fill.  From that, to Hux apologizing, to Hux calling him by his first name, he didn’t know what surprised him most.  He found himself suddenly self-conscious.  It was one thing to make Hux moan and rut against him, but this? This wasn’t part of the deal.

He kissed Hux’s neck again, sliding down his body until his own half-hard cock was out of danger.  Grabbing the back of Hux’s thigh, he pulled until he was straddling him and arched his back to press his belly up between Hux’s legs. Hux groaned at the friction and his cock leaked again.  It was a little messy, but if Poe could finish him this way, he wouldn’t have to worry about . . .

Before he could register what was happening, Hux was lying on top of him, kissing him hard, sloppy and desperate.  For a moment, Poe let himself be carried away, burying his hands in Hux’s hair to hold him in place as he licked into his mouth.  Another roll of Hux’s hips pushed their erections together and Poe jerked, his trance broken. 

Without finesse, he grabbed Hux and rolled them over, pushing him down against the bed with his hands on his shoulders. Hux writhed at the rough treatment.

“Full of surprises, aren’t you?” Poe asked, trying for a light tone.  He only managed to sound wrecked.

“Poe, I . . . I can’t . . .”

“Shhh.  It’s okay, Armitage.  I’m almost done with you.”

He stroked across Hux’s collarbone, finding it damp with sweat.  If he’d reacted to Poe using his name, he couldn’t see it.  Maybe he was too excited and frustrated to notice.

Poe kept his hand moving down the center of his chest. “Let’s see.  I’ve touched you here.”

He tweaked a nipple and Hux sobbed, arching up just as Poe’s fingers released him.

“And here.”

His fingers trailed down Hux’s side and he slid his hand underneath him to cup his ass again. His hips bucked.

“Where should I touch you now?”

He moved his hand back up to rest on Hux’s belly: neutral ground, he supposed.  But Hux only lay there, panting and trembling. Poe stroked down his arm and wrapped his hand around Hux’s, bringing it up to where his had been.

“Where, Armitage?” he said softly.

Very slowly, his fingers shaking, Hux took hold of Poe’s wrist and tugged his hand down to cover his cock.

“I’m shocked,” Poe said with a grin.

As he wrapped his hand around the base again, he felt the urge to stroke it as gently as he had before, to keep Hux’s orgasm at bay. He was probably so close from all the fondling and rutting that his cock was purple by now.  And aching.  Poe wondered, though, whether he wanted to prolong this to punish Hux or not.  Maybe he just didn’t want to stop touching him yet.

Hux cried out when Poe squeezed him, and a few sharp stokes had him coming.

Poe held Hux’s cock until it began to soften in his grasp.  Then he leaned down to press a kiss to his lips and lay down next to him, letting Hux pant against his shoulder.  He reached for his own cock with his clean hand.  Still hard, he realized with a frown.  He wondered if he would have time to jerk off in the ‘fresher before Hux got suspicious.

 “Well, I guess we’d better get you cleaned up.  I’ll be back in a . . .”

He felt Hux’s hand on his waist.  “Wait,” he croaked.  “Wait, I . . . I want to touch you, too.”

Poe’s treacherous cock twitched.  “That’s okay.  I didn’t expect . . . you don’t need to do that.”

Hux was silent for a moment, considering.  “I want to.”

Poe sighed.  This was a bad idea, but at the moment, he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Fine, you know what? I want it too.”

He stretched out on his back next to Hux and felt the bed shift as Hux rolled onto his side.  At first, he thought the hand on his belly was just because it was too dark for Hux to find his cock right away, but when he felt his fingers trailing along the ridge of his groin, first on one side and then the other, he realized.  Hux was exploring him, maybe even intentionally teasing him, just as he had done. The thought was enough to make his cock throb, and he heard himself moan when Hux wrapped his hand around it.

Hux’s grip was tighter than he’d expected, but the angle was odd, as though Hux was afraid of getting too close to him.  It was clear he knew what he was doing, though.

“Yeah, like that,” he rasped when Hux thumbed at his head.

He was sure he would take longer to come than Hux had.  To speed things along, he tried to think of the same people he usually did when he jerked off, but to his alarm, they all morphed into Hux.  Hux on his back, his face flushed and full lips parted in pleasure as Poe stroked him, fingered him.  Fucked him.

The last thought sent such a rush of desire through him that Poe found himself getting up and climbing onto Hux, who gave a little shocked cry.

“It’s okay, I just . . . it will be easier this way,” he explained as he sat down, straddling Hux’s thighs.

A second later, Hux’s hand was on him again.

“Tighter” Poe moaned, and Hux complied.

As he felt the tension coil in his belly, he wondered if the idea of being fucked would scare Hux or intrigue him.  He had certainly been scared before his first time bottoming.  It had felt so good, though, when it came down to it.  He could make it good for Hux, as good as Hux’s tight, hot ass would feel around him.

Poe groaned once more and came.  Hux jumped when the first spurt hit him, but otherwise remained still.  It wasn’t until Poe collapsed next to him, his thigh still thrown over Hux’s thinner one, that he remembered what he was supposed to be convincing Hux to do.

And yet, retrieving Kylo Ren was the last thing he wanted to bring up.

“I’ll . . . um . . . Iet me get you cleaned up,” he mumbled as he got to his feet, a little unsteady.

Hux made no reply.  Even as the light in the half-bath blinded him, Poe felt his cheeks warm at the realization of what he had just done.  He hadn’t hated it; not even a little bit.  But it was possible the confusion he felt now was even worse.

He didn’t look at himself in the mirror as he waited for the water to get warm.  What did a person who’d come thinking about fucking a mass murderer look like? It was a relief to turn the light out again.

As he wiped Hux’s belly, the awkward silence drove him mad.

“There,” he exclaimed, too brightly.  “All clean.”

He jumped when he felt Hux’s warm hand on his wrist.

“Poe . . . I . . .”

The seconds dragged on as Poe waited for him to finish.  He wondered if Hux felt as bewildered by what had happened as he did.

“What’s the matter, Armitage,” he teased.  “Enjoy that more than you thought you would?” Now that the moment had passed, he wasn’t sure how he felt about using Hux’s first name.  It seemed so intimate.  Oddly, though, Hux didn’t seem to mind.

He spoke cautiously.  “It was . . . different than I expected.

Poe sat down on the bed again, intrigued.  “Different how?”

“I thought . . . perhaps . . . that you wanted to . . . well, that you were going to . . . have sex with me.”

Though he could barely see it, Poe imagined Hux’s face must be as red as he spoke as it had been when he came.  He was such a virgin.

“Come on, Armitage.  What kind of man do you think I am?”  Once the words were out, he wasn’t at all sure he wanted to know.

“I didn’t want to rush you,” he added quickly.  “I wanted to make sure you were . . . ah . . . comfortable.”

Poe felt the bed shift as Hux turned to face him, propping himself up on an elbow.  He could feel his scrutiny in the darkness.

“You were very careful with me,” he remarked.  “Why?”

For a moment, Poe could only stare at him.  It had never even occurred to him to be otherwise.  What kind of man _did_ Hux think he was?

“Well . . . I mean, I don’t know.  I don’t know what you like. I just assumed that . . .”

Hux gave him a moment to finish, but words failed him.  “What did you assume about me?” Hux asked.

Poe swore inwardly.  He was sure he’d been right, but how would Hux take to learning that? Charm failed; honesty would have to do.

“I know you’re a virgin.  I didn’t want to do anything that might . . . scare you.”

When Hux spoke, his voice was more clipped and testy than it had been in the ‘fresher. “And what would make you assume that?”

Kriff.  “I didn’t mean it as an insult!” Poe insisted.  “I’m sure it must have been hard, in the Order, for you trust anyone and . . .”

“I hope you don’t flatter yourself that I trust you!” Hux spat.

Poe sighed.  He felt too stupid even for indignation.  And suddenly very naked.

“Look, I’m sorry.  I’ll just . . . look, put the light on for a second so I can find my clothes and I’ll go, okay?”

But Hux didn’t move.  “It . . . has been rather a long time,” he said softly.

Poe, who was looking for his underwear on the floor, stood up again.

“What has?” He hoped he sounded conciliatory.  It would be better for him to leave the room on his own terms.

He could barely hear Hux’s reply.  “Since I had sex with someone.”

That answer alone was enough to make Poe sit down on the bed again.  “With who?”

“A woman.”

“Really?” Poe knew he was risking offending Hux again, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“A prostitute.  My father . . . arranged it.”

A part of Poe knew he didn’t want to hear anymore.  This was definitely too intimate, too personal.  In spite of his quip over the comms all those months ago, he didn’t much like thinking about Hux having parents.

But the rest of him was overwhelmed by curiosity.

“What happened?”

Hux sighed and began to fidget.  It took a minute for Poe to realize that he was struggling to climb under the bedclothes, as though the very memory was enough to make him cold. Finally, he was still.

“One day, my father came to collect me from my dormitory at the academy and brought me to his quarters.  He never did that, so I knew something was . . . wrong.”

Poe felt frozen in place; he couldn’t even speak.

“He told me it shamed him to have a son who was a . . . that he wanted to make a man of me.  And then he brought out this woman. A girl, really.  Not much older than I.”

Poe’s eyes fell shut, as though that would stop him from seeing the story that was unfolding.  His skin felt cold and clammy, and his heart was quickening.

“We were both terrified.  He ordered us into the extra bedroom and told us not to come out until . . . it was over.”

“How did you . . . how were you able to?” Disbelief broke Poe’s silence.  How could anyone even get hard under such circumstances? Was Hux’s father waiting outside the door? He was afraid to ask.

“I don’t know my father threatened her with, but it was enough to make her . . . determined.  She used her hand on me, then her mouth.  Then she got on top of me.”

“What were you doing?”

Hux scoffed.  “I was lying there, with my eyes closed, pretending I was somewhere else.”

Poe’s hand came up to cover his mouth, and he felt his stomach turn with horror.

“Somehow, I was able to . . . to ejaculate, but it wasn’t . . . It was more pleasant than being force-choked, but that’s all I can say for it.”

In the silence that followed, Poe knew Hux was waiting for him to speak, but he couldn’t.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the emotion out of his voice.

“So, that is the story of how I lost my virginity,” Hux concluded with theatrical brightness.

“How old were you?” Poe asked.  He still felt a little ill, but knowing there was no more to come helped him to find his voice.

Then it was Hux’s confidence that seemed to go.  When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper.

“Seventeen.”

Almost without conscious will, Poe felt himself reaching for Hux.  When his fingers closed on a bony shoulder, he gave it a squeeze.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you, Armitage. That is . . . so much worse than you being a virgin.”

Hux scoffed again, but Poe could feel him moving closer to the warmth of his hand.  “We can agree on that.”

When he sat up, Poe dropped his hand back to his side and turned around. Hux slid across the bed to sit next to him.

“Come on.  I’ll help you find your clothes, and you can be on your way.”

Poe started to stand, but then he turned to the side, wrapping his arms around Hux’s waist and resting his head on his shoulder.  Hux tensed, but made no attempt to escape.

“What . . . is this?” Poe thought he could hear just a trace of softness in his voice.

“It’s called a hug, Hugs.  Do you hate it?”

Hux said nothing for a moment, then he relaxed, letting his head rest against Poe’s.

“I don’t completely hate it.”

Poe smiled, enjoying the moment before he released him and got up.  It wasn’t easy finding his clothes and getting dressed in the dark, but with Hux’s help, it was faster than it could have been.

Hux leaped back into the safety of darkness when Poe opened the door to leave, but stood still and lowered his head when Poe turned around to kiss him softly on the mouth.

“See you tomorrow, Armitage.”

As he made his way down the hall, Poe remembered that he hadn’t asked Hux for the Finalizer’s system code after all, hadn’t even thought of it again.  The horror story Hux told him had thrown him off.  He hadn’t been expecting anything like that.  But as much as he wanted to blame the sudden rush of feeling he’d felt for Hux on that, he knew it wasn’t true.  He felt sorry for him, but he was intrigued by him, too.  He wanted to know him better.

And then there was the sex. As horrific as Hux’s first time had been, he had obviously enjoyed what they’d just done. But Poe wasn’t sure one time would be enough to gain his trust after all.  Three times, maybe four would do the trick.  They weren’t in any rush.

There would be plenty of time to ask about the code later.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Hux awoke feeling better rested than he had been for as long as he could remember.  Since coming to the Resistance, it had been his habit to lie awake at night, half afraid that his neighbor would do some violence to him under cover of darkness, and half because everything still felt so foreign.   On the Finalizer, it had always been so cold that he had to pull the covers over his head and tightly around him to keep from shivering.  He still did, only now it made him sweat and interrupted his sleep.  There were also the sounds of the Resistance officers, who sometimes came in late or got up in the middle of the night to use the refresher.  Sometimes he could even hear the man in the nearest room to his snoring.  On the Finalizer, the rooms were soundproof.

Not that he had slept well there, not by any means.  But at least the things that kept him awake at night there had been things for which he knew how to plan.  And he knew how to protect himself.  Here, he had to be on guard against he knew not what.

Except for last night.  As the memories came flooding back, he lay down and pulled the covers over his head.  He could be dead now for all the sense of self-preservation he’d shown.  He had defected thinking that all he had to do was simply give the Resistance no further reason to want him dead, and they would help him carry out his plans for revenge but leave him alone otherwise.

Instead, he had let that arrogant pilot invite himself into his bed and touch him.

 As soon as the thought entered his mind, he felt his cock begin to swell.  He swore against his pillow and tried to think about something else, but that single thought produced so many more that soon there was no holding them back.  He knew that Dameron wanted something from him, that he had been sent by General Organa to get some information that could’ve been gotten by means of torture, but she thought she was above that. It was ridiculous, but Hux had been intrigued by him.  By his body, at least.  Now, he wasn’t sure what Dameron had done to him wasn’t its own kind of torture.

Soon his cock was fully erect, impossible to ignore.  Hux couldn’t remember the last time he had taken care of himself.  He supposed it had been before the destruction of Starkiller Base.  Since then, pleasure had seemed an unnecessary extravagance.

When he rolled onto his back, Hux realized the mistake immediately.  His cock twitched against the bedclothes and he bent his knees to relieve the pressure on it. He had been so busy thinking of Dameron’s hand felt on him and how Dameron’s cock had felt in his that he’d forgotten he was still naked.  He hadn’t imagined that when he’d played out possible scenarios in his mind while he waited. 

He’d never considered that Dameron would want him to undress.  Or that he would want to kiss him.  That particularly had felt so strange Hux hadn’t been sure he liked it at first.  That certainly hadn’t been part of the situation with the girl in his father’s rooms.  But Dameron had seemed to like it, even to like him.  It had almost felt as though he wanted to be there. His act had been very convincing.

So convincing that he’d told Dameron something he was sure he’d never told anyone before.

That thought alone was enough to make Hux’s cheeks flush with embarrassment. He sat up and threw off the bedclothes.  Clearly, he wasn’t going to get anywhere lying in bed thinking about Dameron all day. Besides, he was hungry, far hungrier than he usually was given the quality of the Resistance food.  He supposed that was Dameron’s fault as well.

He caught a glimpse of Dameron at breakfast, but otherwise he didn’t see him all day.  Not that he did much looking.  In the time he’d spent on the Resistance base, he’d grown a little more comfortable venturing out for reasons other than meetings with General Organa and her staff, but he never liked to stay out long.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to see Dameron on these brief excursions.  After all, it wasn’t a very large base.  But he found himself looking for him, which was troubling.  It had always been this way when he sought one man in particular, and under these circumstances it was even more likely than usual that it would end in disaster.

When he finally stepped into the refresher at the end of the day to wash up, it was with a sense of relief.  Since he’d had no occasion to see him, Dameron hadn’t gotten a chance to invite himself back, which was good.  He was sure he would be back eventually having gotten nothing from him the night before, but next time, Hux would be ready.

He had just rinsed the shampoo from his hair when he heard someone calling just outside.  Turning his back to the spray, he glanced around madly for his towel and realized he must have left it outside on the rack.  So much for getting more comfortable in his surroundings.

The voice came again, and this time it sounded like his name.  Or something close to it.

“There you are, Hugs!” Dameron exclaimed when Hux stuck his head out of the stall, wrapping the curtain around him.

“What do you want?” he snapped, trying to look as indignant as possible.  Dameron only grinned infuriatingly.

“I want to talk to you, and get cleaned up.  Obviously.”

“Well, there are two other empty stalls here.  This one is occ . . .”

Dameron pulled his shirt off, effectively stopping his tirade.  Hux eyes widened as he lowered his shorts too, his face burning as hot as it had the last time he’d seen Dameron undress.  Had it been a week? The circumstances made it difficult to keep track of time.

Especially with Dameron stepping into the stall beside him, now as naked as he was.

“You’d better move,” he suggested.  “You’ll let the water out and make a mess.”

Hux froze for a moment, but when he saw Dameron’s attention fixed on the second shower head and not him, he let the curtain drop.  He went back to his spot and reached for the soap, lathering it up to clean under his arms.  It was his intention to ignore Dameron completely, but he couldn’t resist stealing a little glance every few seconds.

When Dameron put his head under the spray, the glancing stopped.  Hux watched the white suds flow down his tawny back and over the curve of his ass, his attention so absorbed that the soap his was holding slipped out of his hand. He swore and knelt down for it.

When he stood up again, Dameron was watching him, one corner of his mouth curved up into a smirk.

“I’m not making you nervous, am I?”

Hux scoffed and turned his back on him, but now that he had the soap again, he didn’t know what to do with it.  He had already washed every part of himself except between his legs, where he happened to have a full erection again.

He scowled down at it, pinching the tip so hard he had to bite back a yelp, but to no avail.  Certain that Dameron was watching him, probably laughing at him, he scrubbed roughly at the hair around his base and twisted his balls with one hand as he dragged the soap up his erection.

With no more interference from Dameron, he put his soap back in its case and stepped back under the spray for a final rinse.  He jumped when he felt a warm hand on his hip.

“What are you doing”” he hissed as Poe turned him around.

Poe hesitated, looking up at him.  “Is this alright?”

A hand sliding up his chest weakened Hux’s resolve.  He nodded.

As soon as he did, Dameron stood on his toes to kiss him hard, pressing his body against him.  When Poe deepened the kiss, Hux felt his back hit the cold tiled wall.

He couldn’t believe Dameron was kissing him, not even after last night.  The sound of water falling drowned out his moan when Dameron kissed down the side of his neck.  When he took a nipple between his lips Hux’s knees nearly buckled and his fingers clawed at the wall behind him.  He didn’t think his cock could get any harder.

Then Dameron stood back and knelt in front of him.

“What . . . what are you doing, Poe?” Hux panted, alarmed.

Poe grinned up at him at the use of his first name, but said nothing.  He leaned forward to lick the underside of Hux’s cock.

His head hit the wall behind him hard, the pleasure so intense he was afraid he might pass out.  He’d heard of this before, but the idea was so bizarre and repulsive he couldn’t believe it was real.  And he certainly never thought anyone would do it to him.

As soon as his tip was in Poe’s mouth, he could feel his balls tightening, the pressure building low in his belly so fast it was almost painful.  He was going to come soon.  Just like before.

He had barely registered the hand leaving his hip before it was cupping his ass, sliding down and in until . . . oh!

When Poe’s fingers pressed against the soft spot behind his balls, the tension inside him snapped and he spurted into Poe’s waiting mouth before he could think to warn him.

Without batting an eye, Poe pulled off of him and spat out his release on the refresher floor as Hux watched, disgusted and yet still aroused.  He wondered if it was disgusting to Poe.

Then Poe stood and kissed him again.  Just a peck, but Hux thought he could taste just a trace of himself on his lips.

“Wait for me outside, will you?” Poe asked.  “I have something to tell you.”

Hux couldn’t have rushed if he wanted to.  He had to sit down on the bench as soon as he was out of the stall, still shaky on his legs.  His hands didn’t cooperate either, and it took several tries for him to get his underwear on.  His growing anxiety didn’t help.  What could Poe have to tell him that necessitated  . . . that?

He was still getting dressed when Poe got out, his thick hair still dripping and a towel slung low on his hips.

“Sorry I don’t have time for more,” he began.  Hux had half-expected him to make fun of the state he was in, but as he sounded genuinely apologetic, he smiled.

“I’m not sure I could handle more.”

The corners of Poe’s lips quirked up and he laughed.  “Well . . . good.  Because I won’t be able to come and see you tonight.”

Hux’s smile vanished. “Oh.”  It seemed he would be getting the night alone he had wanted.  So why did he feel so disappointed?

“I’m going to Yavin 4 to visit my dad tonight, but I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”

Hux stared at him, eyes wide in shock.  Had he really just told him where his father lived? How naïve Resistance officers were, to throw out such vital information so casually.

It took a moment for him to remember that he was in no position to put it to use, even if he wanted to.

“That’s . . . a very short trip,” he commented.

Poe shrugged.  “Yeah, but we’re planning a major assault on the First Order’s fleet aren’t we? I don’t have a whole lot of time. But he won’t mind.  He just likes to see me every once in a while, especially before a dangerous mission.”

Hux realized that he was staring again and looked away.  It always made him feel a little timid and self-conscious when the topic of fathers came up, and given what he had told Dameron before . . . He didn’t know what to say.

“Well, then, have a safe trip,” he said tersely as he got to his feet, relieved that, finally, they would bear his weight again.

“Not so fast, silly,” Poe said, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.  “I’m not done with you yet.  I have a question for you.”

Hux turned, wondering if he should sit down again.  He did feel a little light-headed.

“When I come back,” Poe continued, “I have to go on another short mission.  Every week we draw to see who makes food deliveries, and my name came up this week.  It just takes about an hour both ways, not long.”

Hux frowned, wondering why Poe was telling him this.

“Would you like to go with me?”

Hux’s eyebrows went up; he almost asked Poe to repeat himself. He had heard the words, but the didn’t make sense.  Yet he felt as though something had leaped up inside him.

“I?” he began, cautious.  “What help do you think I could be?”

Poe smirked and shook his head.  “You don’t need to do anything, Armitage.  Just keep me company.  It always makes errands go faster when you have somebody with you.  Besides . . .”

He glanced away, and Hux felt his heart beating faster in spite of his suspicion.

“It will give me a chance to talk to you properly.  Not just here or in your bed.”

Hux considered that, but he remained confused.  “Talk about what?”

Poe smiled. “Oh, just to get to know each other.” Hux thought he looked a bit smug.

Not enough to diminish the appeal, though.  “I suppose I could do that.”

Poe grinned and released him.  “Great! I’ll come and find you when I’m ready to leave.”

As he made his way back to his room, Hux wondered what he had signed on for.  He supposed it did make sense for Dameron to want to be alone with him in a situation where sex was impossible.  He was, after all, in this arrangement to get something, and only time would tell what that was.  And getting Hux to trust him outside the bedroom was surely conducive to that end.

At the same time, perhaps it would be nice to get to know Dameron a little better.  It might even prove helpful at some point in the future.

* * *

Poe returned from Yavin 4 with a new resolve.  It had been a good time to visit his father for many reasons, but most important that it reminded him of what was at stake.

He had told him about the general’s request that he convince Hux to divulge the codes controlling the Finalizer; of course, there ware some details he’d left out.

“You know,” Kes had said, “I thought this was all over after the last war.  But now, I wonder if we wouldn’t have done better to try to understand what the survivors on the other side wanted.  After all, the Empire was made up of people, right? People can change.”

Poe had smiled, trying to look less anxious than he felt.  “Yeah, Dad.  If they get the chance to.”

“Go and get that code,” he’d said when he hugged Poe at the end.  “Don’t leave the same problems for your kids to solve.”

That was what really mattered.  Kylo Ren was only one person.  There were . . . who knew how many people who could benefit from one act of mercy?  How many children would be born that could never have existed if they followed their current plan? If the Finalizer could be spared, how many other First Order ships and bases could be taken in the same way?

Kylo Ren could rot in a cell for all Poe cared; it was worth doing this for the others.  All he had to do was convince the man who had destroyed the Hosnian system to agree with him.

“I trust you found your father well?” Armitage asked after they had taken off.

He wasn’t looking at Poe, though. He was staring wide-eyed out of the window in front of him. Poe had offered him some caf from his thermos when he got into the cockpit, but he had refused, and now he could see why.  He sat rigid in his seat, staring in front of him; even his voice was a little higher than normal. He’s uncomfortable in a starfighter, Poe realized.  So uncomfortable it was making him polite.

“He was, thank you.  Are you sure your seat belt is tight enough?”

“Hmmm?” Armitage glanced at him, still holding the belt in both hands as though he was afraid it would fly off.  “Oh yes, it’s fine.”

“You’re not used to starfighters, are you?”

Armitage eyed him warily, as though he suspected a hidden joke. “No.  I’m used to ships so big you can’t feel them turn.”

Kriff.  “You don’t get motion sickness, do you?” Poe hadn’t considered that possibility.  Perhaps this wasn’t such a good idea.

Armitage’s eyes were facing forward when he answered.  “I suppose we’ll find out.”

As time passed, Poe saw him relax a bit.  His replies were terse until Poe realized that he needed to do most of the talking.  He told Armitage about Yavin 4 and what his father’s life there was like now that he’d retired.  He wouldn’t have expected a former First Order general to find it interesting, but Armitage asked him questions to keep him going.

“Is he worried about you? About what will happen when you attack the fleet.”

It was such an odd question that Poe had to look at him again, but he only saw open curiosity on his face. 

“This is hardly my fist dangerous mission, Armitage.  It’s not my first attack on this fleet! But yeah, I’m sure he is.  You know what fathers are like.”

When Armitage’s mouth tightened and he looked away, Poe knew he had said the wrong thing.

“Sorry.  I didn’t mean . . . I shouldn’t have said that about fathers.”

Armitage looked at him again, but his eyes were still narrowed.  “We’ve been talking about fathers for the last ten minutes, Dameron. They are hardly a forbidden topic.”

“We’ll we’ve been talking about mine, but . . .” Try as he might, Poe couldn’t find a way to end that sentence that wasn’t offensive.

Armitage watched him intently until he blurted out.  “Your father abused you.  It’s a . . . sensitive topic.”

“Oh,” was all he said in response, and after that the silence went on for so long Poe thought, with relief, that the subject was dropped.  He reached for his caf and had taken a big sip when Armitage spoke again.

“I wouldn’t say he was abusive.”

Poe sputtered as his caf went down the wrong way.  “You . . . (cough, cough) . . . what?”

Armitage’s eyebrows went up, as though he were surprised by his reaction.  “He never beat me.  He never touched me that I can recall.”

Poe took a deep breath, struggling to calm the outrage welling up within him.  “Maybe he didn’t hit you, but he forced you to have sex when you were just a kid.  That’s . . . twisted.  You didn’t consent to it; you told me you and the girl were both afraid.  That’s not just sexual abuse, Armitage.  That’s rape.”

Armitage wasn’t looking at him anymore, but Poe could see flush on his cheeks.  Was it anger or something else?

“I suppose I never saw it like that,” he murmured softly, as though he were talking more to himself than to Poe.  “I don’t think he meant to hurt me, only to do what he thought best. He just didn’t want me to . . . to stand out too much.  Uniformity.  That was the word he always used, any time he spoke to us cadets.  Uniformity will make you strong.”

Poe listened with growing horror.  It sounded so familiar.  Finn had told him what it was like: everyone looking the same, doing the same things, hearing the same things.  There was no room for individuality, and even now Finn still struggled with distinguishing his own preferences on things as simple as food and clothing.  Options left him in danger of being overwhelmed.

“Strong, maybe.  But what did you give up to be that way?”

Armitage looked at him, his lips pressed tight together, but didn’t answer him.

“You have strength together, I’ll give you that.  But when one of you gets off by yourself . . . “

“Are you speaking of me or Finn?”

Poe’s eyes widened in surprise, which he tried to hide by taking another sip of caf. The man who had been General Hux understood more than he’d thought.  Maybe he even saw a connection between himself and the stormtroopers.

 Both of you, he wanted to say, but how would that go over?  He knew Finn would hate the comparison.

Instead, he switched tactics.  “You said that your father wanted what was best for the cadets.  He started the stormtrooper program, didn’t he?  The one you oversaw until . . . recently.”

Armitage only nodded in response.

“Do you want what’s best for them?”

His mouth twisted in a scowl.  “Of course I wanted what was best for them! They were . . . that was my achievement.  I may have inherited the program from my father, but I made it better, more . . .”

“Did they matter, though?” Poe interjected.  He could hardly believe the opportunity that had presented itself. “The men and women who made up the program.  The stormtroopers themselves?”

“Of course they did.  The First Order would be nothing without them.”

“Then why do you want us to blow up the Finalizer, which will be full of stormtroopers?”

Armitage dropped his eyes and looked away, considering that.  Poe felt his heart pounding as he waited.  It had taken him so long to bring the subject up, was it really going to be so easy?

“Once the Finalizer is gone, the other ships and bases will surrender.  They’ll know the threat we . . . I mean, the threat the Resistance poses now.  We won’t have to waste any more lives.”

“Lot of lives on the Finalizer, though,” Poe pointed out.

Armitage turned away completely.  “Not in comparison to all the others.  How many will die if the war doesn’t end?”

Poe sighed.  His tone was so final he knew that now more progress would be made for the moment.  But at least there had been some.

“Get ready, Armitage.  We’re almost there.”

* * *

Hux awoke to the sound of someone tapping on the window.  He jumped at the noise, then sat up straight rubbing his eyes.  His anxiety during the flight had exhausted him, it seemed, and it was so warm in the x-wing with the sun coming through the windows.

He was still trying to reorient himself when Dameron raised the top and climbed into the pilot seat.

“Did you take a nap?” he asked.  “The delivery took a less time than I thought.  Supplies have been a little tight, but hopefully that will change soon.”

Hux blinked at him, wondering if there was still any caf in the thermos.  “I was just resting my eyes.  I wasn’t asleep.”

He jumped when Dameron reached for him and stroked the tip of his index finger along his cheekbone.  “The seam in your seat left an imprint on your face, just here,” he explained.  “I should know.  I’ve fallen asleep in here more than once.”

Hux supposed he couldn’t argue with that, but it embarrassed him a bit to be called out.  When he said nothing in reply, Poe turned on the engine.

“We had better head back.  You good?”

Hux nodded. 

It was easier than taking off the first time had been.  He had known Dameron’s reputation as an excellent pilot before he knew anything else about him, but he didn’t trust himself.  At first, he thought he had been out of his mind to agree and throwing up and humiliating himself was exactly what he deserved.  But listening to Dameron talk about his father had given him something else to focus on, and that had helped enormously.

Now, though, he was afraid of what he would want to talk about.  When the topic of stormtroopers had come up, Dameron had seemed to dangerously close to asking what General Organa had sent him to ask, and Hux had grown to dread that. Once he had told Dameron what he wanted to know, the attention he paid to him would stop.  And he had been enjoying it, in spite of himself.

“So, I have tonight off,” Dameron said, breaking the silence.  He gave Hux a pointed look that he hoped meant more pleasure in store for him.  Or it could be an invitation to another talk with the general.

“How nice for you,” he offered cautiously.

“It could be nice for you too . . . if that’s what you want.”

Hux wanted it.  “And how is that?”

Dameron smiled, but there was no trace of cockiness in his expression this time.  “I said I wanted to talk to you here, where I knew we’d be alone, but not where we’re actually going to . . . do anything.”

Hux felt the blood rush to his cheeks again.  What was Dameron going to ask him now.

“I wondered, in addition to what we’ve already done, is there anything you’d like to try? Anything you’re curious about?”

He felt his heartbeat quicken.  There were so many things he wanted to try; he’d been thinking of them since he left the shower the previous day.  Telling Dameron about them, though, was an entirely different matter.

He replied with a question of his own.  “What would you like to do that we haven’t done?  I’ve . . . so far, I’ve enjoyed everything you’ve done to me.”

Dameron grinned.  “I know that, Armitage.  You made that very clear.”

Hux frowned at that.  He knew he’d been too loud, but having it confirmed only made him bristle.  “Well?”

“I want to fuck you.”

Hux eyes widened and the heat spread to his ears and neck as he stared at Dameron.

“Sorry, um.  That was a little blunt.  I would like to fuck you, if that’s something you think you’d like.”

“I . . .” Hux began, struggling to come up with a way to end the sentence.  He had taken for granted that that word would only ever be an expletive for him.  Now that he had to consider it as a verb, the possibility overwhelmed him.  At the same time, the word sent tendrils of desire through him, coiling low in his belly and sending sparks up his spine.

“I . . . I’ve never really considered it.”

Dameron nodded.  “Well, consider it.  We don’t have to.  I’m fine with whatever you want.  But, you asked what I wanted and . . .”

“Isn’t it painful?” Hux blurted out.  He knew the basic mechanics of the act, and saw no way for it to be anything else.

“Well . . . it’s not supposed to be.  It can be, though,” Dameron added. “In my experience.”

Hux looked at him, his curiosity piqued.  It was obvious Dameron had more experience than he did, but it surprised him that he had, possibly, been fucked as well as doing the fucking.

“What was it like for you?”

“The first time I bottomed, I wanted the guy to know that I was into it.  He was a year or two older than I was and had more experience, so . . . I don’t know.  I thought I needed to compete with his other lovers, or something stupid like that.”

Hux found himself leaning towards Dameron almost involuntarily.  “So?”

“So, I slicked his cock with some lube and sort of . . . impaled myself on him before he could stop me.”

Hux blinked, “Ow.”

“Ow, indeed.  He wasn’t even that big, but without any prep I just . . . I really wasn’t ready.  And I haven’t made that mistake again.  To be fair, I was only seventeen at the time.”

The same age I was, Hux thought with a wince.  But wanting it had to have made a difference.  He felt a twinge of jealously, in spite of how painful the act sounded.

“What would you do to prepare someone correctly?” he asked.

Dameron gave him a smile that was more relieved than lascivious and described how he would tease him with one finger before slipping it inside, ease him open with two and finally add a third when he was ready.

“If you can take three of my fingers, you can take my cock easily enough.”

The explanation had been concise and tasteful, as though he were explaining how to change a tire. It was still enough to leave Hux almost squirming to hide the erection tenting his trousers.

“Does that sound alright to you?”

If Dameron were aware of his situation, there was nothing in his voice to betray it.

Hux nodded. “I think . . .  I could manage that.

* * *

Poe had been on pins and needles from the moment they touched down.  His report to General Organa passed in a haze so dense that he almost failed to notice her disappointment that he still hadn’t gotten the code.  They still had another two days before the attack, and besides, he was going to ask Armitage that night.  Once he was finished with him, anyway.

As clear as it was that Armitage was expecting him when he went to his room that night, he was still dressed.  Poe fixed that quickly, and got plenty of help taking his own clothes off.  In spite of what had happened in the refresher, though, Armitage was still shy of being looked at.  His cheeks were flushed pink and he didn’t meet Poe’s eyes once he was naked.  His hands fidgeted on his lap as though he wanted to cover himself.  Poe felt a pang of guilt as he watched him.  He really was rather pretty for all his paleness, but he supposed no one had ever dared to tell him that.

 “Get on top of me?” Poe suggested.  Armitage gave a slight shake of his head.

“Oh, come on,” Poe urged.  “I’ll be able to see you better.”

“Exactly.” His blush was even darker than before.

Poe frowned, reaching for him and gently lifting his chin until Armitage’s eyes met his.

“You know I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, right?”

Armitage narrowed his eyes.  “I . . . I’m not so sure about that.”

Poe forced himself to smile. “Well, let me convince you.”

Armitage said nothing, but his eyes fell shut when Poe slowly trailed his fingertips down his throat and his lips parted in a gasp when they circled a nipple. Poe gave the little nub one pinch and dropped his hand to his own belly, just above his cock.

“If you want more,” he offered, “you have to sit down here.”

It only took a moment’s hesitation before Armitage got up on his knees and threw one leg over Poe’s waist.  Poe’s eyes dropped between his legs as he settled; for all his reluctance, he was hard already. And he wasn’t alone.

“This isn’t so bad, is it?”

“No,” Armitage whispered, his eyes falling shut as though that would protect him from Poe’s scrutiny.  It really wasn’t so bad, Poe thought as his eyes trailed down his body.  His waist was a slender as a woman’s between Poe’s hands and his skin soft.  He had faint trail of copper hair leading down from his navel but was otherwise smooth as far as he could see. And so very sensitive.  Just Poe’s flattened palms against his belly and sliding up his chest was enough to make him squirm.  When Poe’s cock brushed against the curve of his ass, he let out a squeak.  Poe had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

“There, I told you I was where I wanted to be.  Now, come down here.”

As soon as the words were out he was afraid Armitage would misunderstand and lie down again, but instead he leaned forward, pressing his little cock against Poe’s belly as he kissed him.  He whimpered and rolled his hips when Poe dragged his thumbs lightly over his nipples as a reward.

“Sit up again.  Put your arms behind you.”

Armitage obeyed with surprising speed this time, but as his back straightened he looked from side to side, his brow furrowing with confusion.  It took a moment for Poe to understand the problem: he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

 “Not behind your back,” he explained, grinning.  “One the bed, behind you.  By my thighs.”

Armitage gave him a dubious glare, but did as he suggested.

“That’s . . . yeah.  That’s good.”

His arched back lengthened his torso, making his soft belly taught and his chest stick out.  His nipples were still hard and dark pink from Poe’s earlier attention and his cock stood from a sparse thatch of red hair between his spread thighs, the tip peeking out from his foreskin.  It was pinker than his lips or his nipples, and Poe realized he had never gotten a good look at it before.  The previous morning had been too rushed, he thought, fighting down the urge to slip his foreskin back and tease him with his fingers.  An impatient whine from Armitage interrupted his thoughts.

He was so eager that a brush of Poe’s index finger against a nipple when he reached for him was enough to make his cock throb.  When Poe rolled the other between his finger and thumb his whole body jerked and he groaned.

“Could you come, Hugs?” he teased.  “Just from me playing with these pretty things?”

The blush spreading down his throat was almost as dark as his nipples, but even so he managed to scowl.  He opened his mouth to scold him, but all that came out was a cry when Poe pinched both nipples and lightly tugged them.  His cock twitched hard against his belly and a drop of fluid appeared at his slit.  Poe’s lips parted as he watched it fall and leave a damp trail down Armitage’s shaft, ending just above his heavy sack.

“Poe, please,” he murmured, forgetting to be offended.  He put a hand on one of his wrists to hold it in place.  “More.”

Poe relaxed his grip, soothing the tiny points with light strokes that made Armitage shudder.

“Later,” he cooed.  “First, though, I want to touch you somewhere else.”

Before he could ask where, Poe dropped a hand to cup his balls.

Armitage grimaced even as his cock throbbed again.  He moved one hand to Poe’s belly for leverage and shifted his weight from one knee to the other.  Poe frowned, uncertain whether he wanted more or wanted to get away.

“Alright?”

Armitage bit his lip.  “Yes . . . it’s just . . .”

“Too much?” Poe offered.  That Armitage was such a stranger to his own body was still bizarre to him, but he didn’t have to upset him by letting him know.  He hoped.

When Armitage nodded, he lowered his palm and slipped two fingers further back

“What about here?”

Armitage heaved a long, shaky sigh when he gently stroked along his perineum, and Poe smiled. 

“Good? You want more?”

There was no hesitation this time.  “Yes.”

Poe slid a hand behind him to cup one cheek and slid his fingers back further.  Not quite touching his hole, but close.  His eyes sought Armitage’s face for any signs of discomfort, but his shoulders had relaxed, and he was looking down, watching Poe’s forearm where it disappeared between his legs with interest.

When he pressed two fingertips just behind his balls, Armitage groaned and moved back against them, brushing against Poe’s cock again.  It twitched in sympathy as another drop of precome rolled down Armitage’s shaft.

Poe swore.  “You’re gorgeous.”

Armitage scowled at in earnest this time.

“There is no need for you to lie,” he snapped.

Poe blinked up at him for a moment.  He’d gone from moaning and writhing to looking so upset Poe half expected him to get up. He felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment and indignation.  A list of comebacks rose to his lips, but he fought them back.  He hadn’t made so much progress only to stop at the first sign of friction.

Instead, he drew his hand back.

“Wait!” Armitage protested, his face softening. “I . . . I was . . . getting used to that.”

Poe looked at him, confused.  He clearly didn’t mind Poe’s hands all over him; why couldn’t he take a compliment?

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to offend you,” he offered vaguely.  And he was, at least for what couldn’t be unsaid.  Why couldn’t he have insulted Armitage’s proficiency as a battle commander that day? He wouldn’t be regretting that now.

Armitage sighed. “I just prefer not to discuss my . . . body.  It’s private.”

But your asshole isn’t? Poe wanted to ask.  Instead he said, “I have a solution.  Lie down on your belly.”

He smiled when Armitage’s eyes dropped to his own erection.

“With a pillow under your hips so you have somewhere to put that.”

Armitage was quick enough to obey him, but when Poe put his hands on his lower back, he found it tense again. He massaged him, sliding his hands down to cup and knead each small cheek until Armitage was panting and pressing back against him.  Only then did he lightly brush a fingertip over the soft pink furl of his asshole.

Armitage jumped with a little cry, just like Poe knew he would.

“Does that feel alright?”

“I’m . . . not sure.”

He looked over his shoulder when Poe got up to retrieve the lube.

“I’m not going far,” Poe reassured him, holding the bottle up.  “This will make it easier.”

“That’s cold!” Armitage yelped when Poe pressed a slick finger against his rim, but a few minutes later he was sighing and pressing his hips down against the pillow.  At the first intrusion he had felt impossibly tight, but as the relaxed the sounds he made had Poe’s cock twitching with want.

He remembered what it felt like being on the receiving end of this for the first time.  It had felt so strange at first, more unpleasant than anything.  And then, suddenly, everything had changed.

He slipped his hand underneath Armitage to cup his cock when he put the second finger in.  It had softened a bit since he lay down, but a few light strokes had it filling his palm again. 

When he pressed his fingertips down towards Armitage’s belly, he jerked and swore.

“What was that?” he demanded, his voice a low rasp.

Poe’s only answer was to move the hand holding his cock back to his left cheek and squeeze it.  Then he pressed down again.

Soon Armitage was moaning and grinding desperately against the pillow underneath him.  Anyone who happened to pass would by would stand a good chance of knowing exactly what was happening, but Poe couldn’t bring himself to care.  It was all he could do not to reach for his own cock, which was aching at the neglect.

“Poe, I . . . I think I’m close,” Armitage whined.

Poe’s eyebrows went up.  He could remember coming fast the first time he was fingered, too, but not just from that.  A mouth had also been involved, he thought.

Could Armitage really come just from his fingers? There was one way to find out.  He withdrew them  and reached for Armitage’s hips, flipping him over before he could object.  The sight of his cock make Poe gasp.  It was slick with precome and almost purple.  Poe was on the verge of asking him if it hurt when he started begging.

“Touch me . . . please. Oh, please!”

Poe pushed his fingers into the relaxed hole again, three this time, and Armitage sobbed, clinching tight around them.  His cock leaked with each brush against his prostate as he moved in and out

Poe’s eyes were fixed between Armitage’s legs so intently that he didn’t see the hand sliding across his belly until it was too late.  Armitage grabbed his own cock and stroked once, twice.  He arched his back and came so hard that the first spurt landed on his throat.  Poe watched until he was spent, disappointment building to match his arousal. 

“You cheat,” he growled, tweaking Armitage’s nipple to punish him.  “I could have gotten you there in just another second.”

Armitage was panting so hard it took a moment for him to answer.

“I’m . . . sorry.  I didn’t know you’d . . . it felt . . . so much.”

Poe sighed.  “It’s fine, Hugs.” He leaned down to press a conciliatory kiss to his damp forehead, then his lips.  “You might trust me a little though, eh.  I’ve always taken care of you before, haven’t I?”

He waited for Armitage to remind him that this had only happened twice before.  Instead, he reached for Poe’s shoulder, pulling him down to lie next to him.  When he kissed him again, Poe’s cock brushed against his belly, pulling a little pained groan from him.

“Oh,” Armitage said, looking at it with curiosity.

“’Oh,’ indeed.”

He sucked in a breath when Armitage put a hand on his thigh and slid it up.

“Do you want to touch it again?” Poe asked, trying to sound relaxed.  It wasn’t working.

Armitage wrapped his hand around the shaft, moving it up and down maddeningly slow.  When Poe’s tip emerged from his foreskin, he licked his lips.

“I want to try . . . what you did. To put it in my mouth.”

Poe’s eyes widened even as his cock throbbed.  “Are you sure?”

Armitage stroked him again, a bit harder this time, and Poe writhed.  “It’s thicker than mine,” Armitage observed, pressing his lips together in concentration.

“You don’t have to take it all,” Poe rasped, thrusting up in an attempt to get more friction.  “Just . . . just start with the tip.”

His heart pounded as Armitage lowered head and he groaned low in in his throat when he gave his glans a tentative little lick.  A gush of precome followed in the wake of his tongue.

“Yeah . . . like that,” he murmured.  He had never been prone to begging himself, but if Armitage didn’t hurry up he might have to start.

He arched off the bed when Armitage took the tip between his plump lips.  The suddenness of the movement must have startled him because he sat back and stared at Poe, eyes wide.

“Careful,” Poe warned.  “If you take too much too fast, you’ll gag.  And you might bite me.”

Armitage looked so affronted Poe had to smile.  “I wouldn’t do that!”

“Well, I’m glad it wouldn’t be intentional.  But this is . . . not the easiest thing to do.”

Armitage nodded, lying down again.  He reached for Poe’s cock with one hand and his hand with another, bringing it to rest on top of his head.

“Tell me what to do.”

A moment later, Armitage was slowly bobbing his head up and down, a firm hand around Poe’s base following the motion.

“That’s it, that’s good,” Poe moaned.  He tried to keep his hand light and gentle on Armitage’s hair, but as his orgasm drew closer, he found himself burying his fingers in the bright red strands and tugging a little too hard.

“I’m . . . fuck! Almost there.”

Thankfully, Armitage took the hint and pulled off just in time.  Poe took his cock in hand and stroked himself as he his hips jerked and he painted his belly with white streaks.  Armitage watched, awestruck.  Poe grinned lazily up at him.  He knew he didn’t have long.  Armitage’s earlier release was starting to dry on his chest, and Poe knew it would start to itch soon, even if he didn’t.  But he didn’t want to get up.  Once they were both clean, he would have to go.

“Could you get us a towel soaked in warm water, Armitage? . . . Armitage?”

He looked up at him, startled.  “Hmm? Oh yes, of course.”

He cleaned Poe first and started on his own chest before Poe took the towel from him and asked him to lie down.  Scrubbing where necessary, Poe took his time to clean up the mess and then some.  When Armitage sighed with pleasure, he considered starting another round, but that would only make it harder to leave.

“Well,” he began, throwing the dirty towel into the hamper, “I guess I had better be on my way now.”

Armitage frowned as he sat up.  “Oh, yes . . . I suppose you must.  Although . . .”

He looked away as his voice trailed off.  Poe quirked an eyebrow.  “Although?”

“I wish you didn’t.” It came out so soft that Poe almost asked him to repeat it.  But he knew what he heard.

“You know, if you asked me to stay . . . I’d do it.”

Armitage’s eyes flitted up to his.

“Please.”


End file.
